I Weep For My Brother

Every day on my insanely long commute, as I wind through street after street, admiring the brownstones as they go by, I encounter a strange little milieu of red spray painted words of various lucidity on wood boards presumably found on the grounds nearby. It is not far from the Crack is Wack mural by Keith Haring and if you weren’t looking, you’d probably miss it. Oftentimes he, because I most definitely presume that it is a he, includes a stuffed animal on a chair or a potted plant. I can never quite make out the point of the scene as the phrasing, the setting, the various items that he includes, do not form a cohesive whole. Recently, however, he spray painted, "I weep for my brother" on an old board, propped it up on a chair, and set it next to a car door which he had painted with dripping red paint. The paint ran down the windows and onto the side of the door. Although I cannot be certain, I believe it is a memorial to Sean Bell, the man who was recently gunned down by police on his wedding day. He was 23. He was the father of two children. In 1999, police killed an unarmed West African, Amadou Diallo. He was shot 19 times. The officers were acquitted of all criminal charges. In 2003, Ousmane Zongo, also West African, was shot four times during a raid in the warehouse where he repaired African art. He was shot twice in the back. The officer claimed that he had a gun, which he in fact did not. In this case, the officers claim that there was a fourth armed man amongst the wedding party. No witness has come forward. I cannot say for certain what happened. It is hard to not believe, however, that fifty shots at three unarmed men is excessive. And so, I weep, I too weep for my brother.